Ice Fishing

Ice fishing... ice fishing... Sitting in a small hut on top of a lake, minding a hole in the frozen surface, waiting for a fish to bite. I have to admit this is something I don’t see much excitement in.

Sometimes they stay too long, these hardy anglers. Maybe they’re trying to extend the season (catch one last fish, avoid the wife one last weekend) and the next thing they know, the minivan has gone through the ice.

Once I heard about a guy who built too big a fire inside his shanty. Nope, not what you think. He didn’t melt his way into the lake - or at least not initially. He stoked the stove and then went to visit a “neighbor” and when he looked back, his shanty was going up in flames! (Then it went into the lake). He was really broken-hearted.

I can’t think of any women who ice fish, but I know several guys who love it, and there are a few others I suspect of having the affliction: this time of year their clothes give off a faint fishy odor when you bump into them in town.

Come to think of it, maybe ice fishing is like blogging. There’s a virtual neighborhood, friends you don’t really know, and everybody’s interested in what’s going on in the others’ places.

Hey, City Mouse or Em or Whim, toss me a beer. Huh? Oh, right. ‘Guess that’s the difference... that and the smell...
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..........Ice fishing shanties on Lake Champlain near South Hero Island
.......................March 6, 2007 ~ © copyright Wizened Eye 2007
.............................................................................(Click to enlarge)

Do You Think it's -20 in Vermont Too?

I'm off to Burlington for a couple of days. While I'm gone, Robin has written something that echoes my heart's thoughts. You'll have to scroll down a bit when you get to her blog, but her piece is important to read.

Hasta la pasta!

Work: the Great Distraction...

(If you're in a hurry, please just go to the photos at the bottom of the post and skip the lengthy explanation. As always, I'd love to have you click on a photo for a closer look.)

My husband and I are starting a new business. It's primarily web-based and has to do with helping people find jobs. This is one of his passions, or as we are fond of calling this great interest, his sickness.

We've done a number of strange and varied things together over the years, and we're a great team. Like most good couples, we share pretty much the same world-view, not always agreeing on the details or the reasoning but valueing the same outcomes and state of things. Our individual skill sets are amazingly yin-yang.

Owing to the sub-clauses of the contract that began with "I do," enjoying the chance to work together on something, and desiring an income of some sort, I am a partner in the new business. He is the idea person; I am the "eye of the common folk" (meaning I interject the occasional note of reality...). I am also the photographer and editor for the website and for the newsprint pieces which lead readers to it. The website is database driven and complex, and part of my job is checking all the links and navigation. Together we do it all: substance, design, sales, delivery. If we're lucky, maybe we'll build it into a business that turns a meager profit.

So that, in a nutshell, is why I have not had the time to go visiting around Bloggerville lately.

But don't think I am not enjoying this venture! I won't bore you - yet - with any of the "work" photos, but I do want to share a couple of shots I took between business stops last Friday.
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The Lion in Spring
© copyright 2007 WizenedEye.com
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On the Dark Side of the Street
© copyright 2007 WizenedEye.com

And Good Night!

The storm has passed, leaving us with at least a foot of new fluffy powder. The horses are eating their hay outside under a full moon and a sky filled with stars.
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Good Evening...

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It snowed hard all day today. We had a glorious ski trek through the woods in the storm.
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Good Afternoon...
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These sumac berries stood out against the whiteness.
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Good Morning...
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The sun peeks through the icicles hanging outside my kitchen window. I look, I smile, I go for my camera, and now I must turn my thoughts to "the work project" that is filling these days. I hope to visit you all soon... Wiz

Track Soup

I dropped in on Elizabeth Gnome this afternoon. I hadn’t seen her in some time, and with the warmer temperatures, today was a good day for a ski around the forest broken up by a visit with this dear friend.

As I approached her small cottage, the smell of something delicious came wafting on the breeze, mingled with the faint scent of wood smoke and balsam. I knocked, and after a short wait the door opened, emitting a cloud of steam that obliterated all but the feet of the gnome who I was sure was beckoning me in. I ducked down to enter the tiny cottage, we hugged the familiar hug of friends, exchanged greetings, and Elizabeth offered a mug of mead. (To be honest, I had been looking forward to this treat).

The source of the wonderful smell was a large kettle over the open fire: Elizabeth was making Track Soup! Like fresh asparagus, strawberries or maple syrup, there is a season for this delicacy, and when the conditions are right, the opportunity must be seized, and Elizabeth Gnome was seizing it on this fine February day. She is proud of her cooking (as well she should be), and on this day when she was feeling that all was right with the world, Elizabeth shared her recipe. I have scaled down the amounts so that it will serve four people (rather than the traditional 73 gnomes):

Track Soup

Tracks of deer, coyote, fisher, mouse, rabbit etc. (you can not have too many)
Onions – 1 large
Garlic – 2 cloves
Butter – 3 tablespoons
Milk – 2 cups
Water – 1 cup
Potatoes – two large, cut in cubes
Cottage cheese - up to 2 cups (as desired)

1. Melt the butter in a kettle over a medium fire
2. Chop the onions and sauté them in the butter for a couple of minutes
3. Mince the garlic, add to the onions and sauté a couple more minutes
4. Stir in the deer tracks, mixing well
5. Add two cups of milk and one cup of water
6. Stir in the coyote tracks a few at a time as the liquid is heating
7. Add the potatoes, cover and bring to simmering.
8. Reduce the heat slightly and add the remaining tracks, being careful not to incorporate any excess air.
9. Simmer 5 – 8 minutes (until the potatoes are cooked)
10. Remove from the heat and stir in a cup or two of cottage cheese. (Depending on how cold the cheese is or how much you use, you may have to reheat the soup slightly to melt it).

Serve immediately.

Cook’s notes: Fresh tracks are essential. Pass up any with dull edges caused by time, and avoid those from areas where mosses and grass tufts have been scattered by deer digging for food. Elizabeth was ecstatic over having found some porcupine tracks, but in my opinion this is an acquired taste, and they are not often found. For best flavor, serve and eat as soon as possible after the cooking process is complete, as coyote and fisher tracks lose flavor rapidly.

Bon appetite!
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Please click on the image to enlarge it.
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News Bulletin:
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Gopher Leaves Forest, Becomes Psychic!

The sly little gopher knows your thoughts... Is it animal instinct? Intuition? Magic? Are your thoughts that simple??? His laughter can be heard all the way back to the forest...

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Shorty’s Treasure
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One day during the summer when I was six, I received a letter in the mail. It was from a man named “Shorty” who was incarcerated in the county prison. He informed me that he needed help; if I would find the treasure that he had hidden on our 285 acres of Adirondack forest land and hold it until he was released, I could keep half of it. Being six, with an active imagination and having read Treasure Island, I was excited out of my mind.

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The next day another letter arrived with a detailed map of our land and with an “x” marked “Shorty’s Island” on it. My father and I set out to find the spot and the treasure. After several hours of following trails and the map, we came to a small “island” in the middle of a spruce-marsh. We scoured the island and finally under a pile of leaves and branches I found an antique metal cigar box! I remember to this day opening the box and seeing the pile of old coins that looked like nothing I had ever seen before. My father and I took them home and I was busy the rest of the day examining, sorting, and counting the coins.

Several days later I received my last letter from Shorty. It said that he wasn’t going to be around much longer so I might as well keep all of the coins. It turned out that “Shorty” would be around for seven more years, but when my grandfather did pass away, the memory of Shorty’s treasure remained one of my fondest.

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The coins had been collected by my great-grandfather when he was a trolley car driver in Rochester. Whenever he found a coin that was unusual, he would replace it with his own money, and soon he had quite a collection. My grandfather, who was a boy at heart, invented the entire story, knowing the effect it would have on an impressionable six year old.
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“Shorty’s Treasure” did have a lasting effect on me; it sparked a hobby that has lasted since that day when I found that shiny cigar box under the branches. Even if those coins were worth thousands of dollars, I don’t believe I would ever sell them, because when I see them today I remember “Shorty” and what a wonderful, kind-hearted man he was.

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.....~ One of my son's college applications asked for an essay about "a meaningful event" in his life, and that was what he wrote. (In case you're wondering, he was accepted). This week would be Shorty's 106th birthday.

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The most valuable coin in Shorty's Treasure was this 1922 Grant half dollar, valued at about $25 in 1983. For the next ten years or so, my son added to his collection with purchases of fairly low-priced old foreign and domestic coins. Below, father and son revisit "Shorty's Island" nearly twenty-five years later.

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